


Chime

by Phrigishpere



Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: M/M, Magic, Slow Burn, Sorry Not Sorry, Wise Guy 5.0.5., gore whoops, slight gore, sorry 5.0.5.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-03-31 10:54:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13973541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phrigishpere/pseuds/Phrigishpere
Summary: With a little chemical accident, things change. A paradigm of sorts.





	1. So Why?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I fell in too deep, into this fandom. I fell way too hard for this ship. I can’t stop now…

Almost there.

_Almost there._

Flug carefully steadied the dropper above the beaker of honey colored liquid, a drop of crystal clear substance beading at the end of the dropper. He was almost there. After eighty-three attempts this _had_ to be the one. There was nothing, _nothing_ that could go wrong right now.

“Fluugy~”

“Fuck!” Flug couldn’t help but flinch at the noise. The motion his hands made sending half of the contents in the dropper into the beaker, sufficiently turning the beaker’s liquid a dark blue, instead of the murky translucent it was supposed to be.

“Fluug, I didn’t know you used that language~”

“D-demencia! What are y-you doing here?! ARGHH!!! I was so close to being done!” Flug groaned as he grabbed the top corners of his bag, dragging them down slightly. His deadline was in three hours, at this rate he’d never get it done. Flug slouched even further in on himself as he thought of what his boss would do to him if he failed to get this project done on time…

“Aw, come on! It’s not so bad! You always get the projects done on time anyway, despite all my ‘hard efforts’.” Demencia leaned back and sighed dramatically, fluttering her eyes at Flug.

Flug sighed and ran a hand across his paper bag, “De-demencia, what do you want?”

“Whaat.” She slung her arm around Flug’s shoulders, pressing her cheek against the side of his bag. “I’m not allowed to check up on my best pal?”

Flug sighed and relaxed against her arm, “Demencia, all you do is break my equipment and talk about Black Hat.”

“And yet, I don’t see you complaining.”

“Th-that’s besides the p-p-point!” Demencia barked out a laugh at that, jostling Flug with each of her breaths. Soon, the room lapsed into silence, both taking a moment to enjoy the comfort of the awkward half hug. Flug hummed at the warmth of Domenica’s body.

“Hey Flug?”

“Hm?”

“What’s that weird smell?”

 

Flug’s eyes snapped open, when did they close? He flickered them over to where the beaker was, noticing that it was now an alarming shade of lavender and was smoking dangerously. He stared at it for a second, trying to assess what he was seeing, finally what he was seeing clicked into place, is eyes widened.

“GAH!” he pushed Demencia off him in a startling show of strength, rushing over to the beaker and picking it up. “Open the window, open the window, open the WINDOW!”

“Flug… there are no windows.” Demencia raised an eyebrow as Flug animatedly hop from foot to foot.

“What! I, ugh, never mind!” He rushed out the lab and into the hallway, making a sharp turn left he ran up to the nearest window. “Demencia! Can you open the…” the scientist paused, realizing he hadn’t followed. He cursed lightly under his breath. Out of all the times Demencia wasn’t around, it had to be now!

At that point the concoction was billowing smoke, the sickly lavender now a glowing a bright shade of fuchsia. The fumes were now filling up the inside of his bag, suffocating him.  
His hands shook as a spider web of cracks spread along the sides of the glass vial. He gasped harshly as the smoke burned his lungs. Not baring to wait another moment longer,  
Flug raised his leg and jammed his foot into the side of the window pane. The side gave way, causing the window to be knocked off its hinges and shatter onto the ground below.

Paying no mind to the now shattered remains of the window, the doctor flung the beaker out the window, in just enough time, considering it exploded not even seconds after being airborne. Flug flung his hands protectively over his bag, stopping the heat from the explosion from searing the front of his bag.

Once the dust had settled, he dropped his arms and sighed. After taking a moment to regain his bearings he had come to terms with three things. One, he just broke the window, like a badass. Two, he now had to start back up from his notes again. And three, the admittedly most important now, he had less than two hours to fix everything.  
He curled over into himself, coughing violently, his lungs still trying to dispel the fumes. Why did it always have to be him?

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Flug’s hands flew as fast as they could, in the case which someone like _him_ was handling explosive chemicals. Which is to say, pretty damn fast. He was running on the last of his ten minutes. He spent a good amount of his time fixing the glass window up, 5.0.5. helping with that cleanup process. It was a massive window, he was surprised that he even managed to break it down all by himself… but that was something to ponder about later. He coughed once, wincing, the coughs had barely died down after all this time.

He blinked rapidly, refocusing himself, he had to zero in on the task at hand. His boss could walk in at anytime now. Flug sped up as he was approaching the last steps, briskly pouring in the substances mixing them around in a new flask, the old one being shattered to oblivion in the recent explosion. He held his breath as he got to the last step with the dropper. Luckily there were no distractions around this time, so exactly three milliliters went into the flask below, turning the liquid into a perfect murky clear substance.  
He breathed out a breath of relief, feeling euphoric. He couldn’t believe he made it on time! He plopped down onto his wheel chair, taking a moment to bask in his temporary success.

“Is it done?” A familiar voice drifted to his ears, a very, very, familiar voice.

Flug lurched out of his chair, stumbling slightly while whirling around to face his boss. “Y-yes, si-sir?” Black Hat narrowed his eyes, “Uhm, I-I me-an yes s-sir. I-it’s d-do-done, s-sir.”

Black Hat drifted over to where the scientist was standing, picking up the beaker with his gloved fingers. “And this will triple your strength, right?” he turned the bottle in his hands, light glinting off the surface.

“A-ah, yes s-sir.” The beginnings of anxiety creeping up his spine.

“5.0.5!” Black Hat called, at a moment’s notice, the bear hybrid soon came bounding into the room.

“Aroo?”

“Drink this.” 5.0.5. hesitated as he looked down at the clear substance, he looked between Black Hat and the potion, and then back again. “Just get it on already!” Black Hat hissed out, glaring at the blue ball of fuzz.

“U-uhm, s-sir-” Flug began, before being silenced by the sharp look Black hat shot him.

5.05. whined slightly before downing the flask. Flug’s eyes widened as his creation drank the liquid, feeling horror creeping up his spine. He knew what the concoction would do to his friend.

5.0.5 dropped the flask, letting it clatter to the ground. He sank to the floor, curling up on himself as pained whimpers passed through his mouth. Flug twitched, wanting to go over to 5.0.5. and embrace him, comfort him as he endured the pain. But he did not dare to move as Black Hat watched with narrowed eyes as the toxins made their way through the shivering figure underneath him.

The whimpers soon turned into pained yelps as the muscles convulsed underneath the bears skin. The flower on his head hanging limply and twitching with each jolt 5.0.5. made. 

After ten long agonizing minutes had passed, 5.0.5. stood up at full height, standing two feet taller, all softness gone, replaced by hard unyielding muscle. A weary expression imprinted on 5.0.5.’s sharp face. It looked unnatural on the cheerful bear, like looking at whole different creature.

Black Hat hummed and circled 5.0.5., examining the effects that took a toll on the, test subject. “How long do the effects last?”

Flug flinched as the voice sliced through the air, “I-it last-s, uhm, about t-two hours si-sir.”

Black Hat flickered his gaze to the scientist, before shifting away. “I expected better from you doctor, that’s hardly enough time to do anything. The time it takes to transform is inept. This will have to do for now, have a better one tomorrow, so we can present to the customers.”

“Y-y-yes, sir…” It looks like Black Hat was in one of his moods again.

Black Hat left the room as swiftly as he came in.

Flug closed his eyes and listened as his boss’ foot steps fade. Once he could no longer hear the rhythmic tapping of his cane, Flug rushed over to 5.0.5 who stood, shaken and strained, in the middle of the room. “I’m sorry…” Flug threw his arms across his friend, his first friend, “I’m so sorry…”

5.0.5. grumbled pitifully into the crook of Flug’s neck, sagging into his creators embrace. “A-aroo…”

“Here let me help you…”

Flug helped 5.0.5. stumble his way to the bear’s cot in the corner of the room. Pictures and drawings covered the expanse of the walls in the small crook. Most were done in crayon. It was a safe spot for 5.0.5. to be.

5.0.5. whimpered as he strained his newly formed muscles into a resting position. Flug flinched at the noise; he brought his hand up to stroke the bear’s forehead, hoping to sooth away some of the pain. He kept up the ministrations until 5.0.5.’s breath evened out, a light snore passing across his lips. Only then did he stop.

Flug let his hand rest upon the fabric soft forehead before dragging it slowly away. Raising a hand underneath his bag, he traced his fingers over raised, irritated skin. If he had a mirror, he would guess it would be a swollen purple now, covered in ugly splotches of yellow, dotted with black sores.

However, he did not need to look into a reflection to know whose hand print it would be of.

He was _still_ reeling on the fact that he got off with a small warning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Flug worked up to four am.

Knowing his employer, when he said tomorrow, he meant that he expected Flug to be at his office at the ungodly hour of seven. Luckily, he was now done with the ‘perfected’ version of the remedy. With about two hours of free time left, the scientist intended to make the most of it. He was heading to _bed_. Where he could get this practically unobtainable thing called _sleep_.

Flug stammered on a breath as he felt a familiar itching sensation against the back of his throat, he hunched over just in time to be thrown into a fit of coughs. He clutched at the edge of his desk with white knuckles, holding on desperately as coughs racked through his spindly form.

After a while, his hacking slowed down. Once the coughs completely subsided, he pulled himself up from the floor, figuring he must have slid down sometime during his fit. He frowned and laid a hand across his damaged throat under his bag. The coughs were getting a little worse, but at least they were less frequent, it would probably pass soon. The fumes just had to cycle out of his lungs that’s all.

With that he finished packing up the last of his things, putting the mixture in a protective environment, and moving the rest of the lab equipment over on the sanitizing rack to sit overnight. He yawned, the only thing at the forefront of his mind right now was sleep.

 

_Beep! Beep! Beep! Bee-_

Flug slapped a hand across the top of the alarm, silencing it. The motion sent a dull throb of pain up his arm, traveling up the base of his spine to create a spike of pain in the back of his head. He hissed and retracted his arm, the act delivering another pulse of agony. The doctor’s eyes watered, he knew there was something very, very wrong with him. He laid there, waiting for full awareness to sink into him. The first thing he felt was the overbearing heat in the room. It felt like his bed was transported into the boiler room. Flug stiffened as he felt dull aches spread from his arm, to his chest, and to everywhere else.

He internally groaned. It appeared he miscalculated. Turns out the fumes did make him ill.

Balls.

The scientist forced himself into an upright position, the sudden change in posture causing his vision to swim and pain to race up his back and stab at the base of his skull. He teared up slightly as he felt a full on migraine start to hammer away at his skull.

Just another daily struggle in the life of Dr Flug, scientist extraordinaire.

 

Flug hauled himself to his lab. He took up so much time getting ready in the morning he had no time for breakfast. He walked on wobbly legs to the entrance of his lab. He leaned against the door for a moment, taking a moment to regain his breath. He could hardly breath under his paper bag, it felt like someone had vacuumed all the oxygen out. The air was just hot, humid, and suffocating. He rose a trembling hand to the door knob and pulled down, letting the weight of his body push open the door.

He stumbled in slightly, stopping himself from a tragic fall as he caught himself on the door frame. Once he got his footing back, he shuffled over to where the bottled solution was, grabbing it, he set it down on his desk with a clatter and collapsed into his chair, throwing an arm over where his eyes would be. Even with goggles the harsh lab lights felt like pinpricks in his eyes.

He just wanted to take a break for a moment before he had to spend time having his creations judged and criticized by his boss. His eyes widened as he felt his throat constrict against itself. He leaned forward and started coughing, once, twice, again and again. His stomach muscles ached as they contorted with each cough, shaking his entire body. In between coughs, he had a chance to notice the ruby liquid seeping between his fingers, before being slammed back into another round. He felt his lugs strain with the lack of air. 

His vision started to swarm with black dots. He slipped out of his chair, head slammed into the floor. As blackness swarmed his vision, he had one final panic-consumed thought.

 

Black Hat was going to fucking kill him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Black Hat was not a very patient man… creature… demon, eldritch horror… whatever, thing!

He _knows_ Flug knows, to be down here by seven. It was an unspoken understanding of sorts, one could say.

Yet here he was.

At 9 am.

Tapping his fingers away against his desk and staring at the door.

Flugless.

He looked over at Cam-bot, who was sitting inanimate in a corner.

What on earth could that man be possibly doing at this time of day! He knows Flug had devoted all his time last night to perfect the serum! Not to say that he was watching him or anything like that.

That would be creepy. Or would be creepy, if creepy didn’t pass as a compliment in his mind.

A hesitant knock sounded at his door snapping him out of his thoughts. It was about time. He picked up a pile of random papers and stared at them. He was a busy man, after all.

“Enter.”

The door swung open. Black Hat opened his mouth, preparing to berate the scientist for his lateness before he realized who was standing in front of his desk.

It wasn’t the doctor that he was expecting, but Demencia who was looking nervous. A very odd expression for the usually chipper lizard girl to be wearing. He raised an eyebrow at her.

“Demencia, is there a problem?”

“Sir, have you by any chance seen Flug at all today?” Also using a respectful tone of voice too. Very odd.

“No. I have been waiting for two hours for the doctor to grace me with his presence.” He bit out bitterly.

Demencia did not waver at his tone, instead straightening her back and looking at him head on. “I tried to go down to his lab thirty minutes ago, but the door’s locked and I can’t break it down!” She threw her hands up, “I tried calling for him, but he hasn’t responded, I don’t know what’s his problem!” She began pacing back and forth in front of his desk. “And I didn’t even see him at breakfast this morning, even though he just comes in for coffee. I even asked 5.0.5.! Even HE doesn’t know what’s going on!”

She glared at the floor huffing. “The nerve of that guy…”

Black Hat waited a moment before rising out of his chair, grabbing his cane, “Now if you’re done with your rant, I do believe the doctor needs a visit.”

Demencia looked up at her boss in surprise, before letting a wide grin twist across her face. “Hell yeah! Let me come too! Tell him a thing or two about locking me out!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Black Hat arrived at the lab door with Demencia in tow. 5.0.5. was already there looking concerned while pawing at the door.

“Step aside.” Black Hat sent a glance at 5.0.5., making the bear back away, before placing his hand on the door. He barely had to concentrate before the door was sent falling inwards, hitting the ground with a force that made the floor shake.

Black Hat stepped over the door into the brightly lit room. He twitched, picking up a metallic smell wafting through the air, along with something else. He saw Demencia and 5.0.5. making a move to follow him through the door at the corner of his eyes. He held a hand up, signaling them to stop.

He walked further into the room, steadily making is way to the desk at the back of the room. As he moved closer to figure the scents got stronger. He spotted a white slumped figure sticking out half way under the desk.

Black Hat narrowed his eyes, moving rapidly towards the figure, only stopping when he was right next to it. The closer he got, the more apparent it was that the metallic scent, blood, was coming from the figure. It also became obvious that the figure was indeed, Dr Flug Syls. He stopped right in front of Flug, looking at the red staining the front of his bag.

The demon raised his cane. He poked Flug on the side of his head once, no response. He poked him again, still nothing. “Doctor?” Black Hat glared as the scientist did not react. “Flug get your _**lazy ass up at once**_!” Flug made no motion.

At that moment, it was obvious that Black Hat could no longer be in denial. There was something wrong with his scientist and he was going figure out what it was. “Demencia! 5.0.5.!”

His gaze shifted to the vile sitting on the messy desk. A scowl twisted on his face. He looked back at the fallen figure of his doctor. What did the idiot do this time?

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Black Hat had 5.0.5. carry Flug to one of the many spare rooms in the house. He instructed the bear to set Flug down on one of the bed. They all backed away to examine their fallen comrade.

“Um, boss. What happens now?” Demencia said as she looked at the still figure of her friend.

“We access the damage.” Black Hat said simply as he peeled his gloves from his hands, tossing them to the floor. He sauntered his way up to Flug’s form.

He slid a hand under Flug’s bag grazing his fingers along the scientist neck, feeling the groove marks of his own fingers. He felt an odd feeling bubble up within him, before quickly shoving it down. The skin felt unnaturally warm, even for human standards. The longer he let his fingers linger, the more he noticed a tingle spreading though his hand. He frowned and jerked his hand back, like he had been burned.

He stood up, refusing to look back at the figure of the doctor. “5.0.5., the doctor is sick, fix him. I want him back to work. Demencia, come with me.”

Demencia practically glowed at the attention she was receiving from her crush. She quickly trailed after her boss, taking a second to send a concerned glance towards Flug, then a comforting look to 5.0.5. before popping out of the room.

5.0.5. blinked as he stared at the spot where his boss and Demencia left through the door. He slowly spun around to face Flug and sighed. Looks like the responsibility of nursing his creator back to health was left in his caring paws. He didn’t mind.

He stepped forward and went to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. My hand slipped, and I ended up typing this whole chapter. I’m painfully aware that the characters are a little, off character. Mm, oh well. Already typed out three other chapters, a little bit too late to change that. Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Happy Pi Day!


	2. Look Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Black Hat, you’re in denial my buddy boi. Ah, yeah. Gore at the end. Oh, you didn’t catch that? GORE is at the end. I have no idea if I wrote it that good, but please be cautious.
> 
> On a side note, what is a good rug color?

It had been four days.

Four days and twenty-one hours.

Four days, twenty-one hours, and thirty-two minutes.

And Flug still hasn’t woken up.

Black Hat glared at the immobile figure lying next to him. He couldn’t get anything done with his scientist out of commission. As much as he hated to admit it, almost all the business productivity rested on the doctor’s shoulders. Without Flug creating new products, the business was at a standstill, and after a longer period of time, he would start losing customers.

That brought him to his current predicament. The one where he was sitting in a chair next to Flug’s bedside. Gazing down at the scientist.

Black Hat glared down at the paper bag covered face.

This was all Flug’s fault, somehow in some way… Lucky for Black Hat, the doctor’s fever had broken yesterday, he would be recovering in no time to get ready to go back to work. But until then, Black Hat would have to endure a long and _excruciating_ wait.

Yes, this was all Flug’s fault.

Black Hat blinked as an idea struck him. He slapped a hand to his face as he realized he could have probably sped up the healing process in fixing his scientist. Not that healing was his forte per say, but it was easily doable.

He peeled the glove off his right hand, setting it on the side table. He slid his hand into Flug’s, not taking notice of how intimate the action actually was. Closing his eyes, he focused his energy to repair what ailed the scientist.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey fives?” Demencia questioned as she leaned back in her chair. “Do you think Flug’s going to be okay?”

5.0.5. turned his head to look at Demencia. He gave her a thoughtful look, pondering over her words before making a calculated decision. The bear padded over to where Demencia was leaning in her chair and gave her a reassuring hug. He felt tension leave through Demencia as she sagged her weight into his arms. “He is just a regular human and fragile and all that…” she mumbled.

“Aroo.” He patted Demencia on the top of her head.

“Thanks fives you’re the best.” 5.0.5. hummed at the compliment. “Hey how about we go see Flug right now! He’s probably going to wake soon. He’s slept enough!”

5.0.5. gave an amused grumble at his friend’s exuberance. He was ever so fond of Demencia’s energy when it came to some things.

Demencia jumped out of her chair, “C’mon fives, let’s go! Blacky’s probably already there~”

Demencia sped down the hallway dragging 5.0.5. along with her. Nothing in her path would stop her from reaching her fallen comrade.

Once at the front of the door she stopped. Turing to face 5.0.5., she put a finger to her lips, her face splitting into a mischievous smile.

She grabbed the handle and gave it an experimental tug, to her delight it wasn’t locked. She softly pulled the handle down fully and pushed open the door.

Demencia opened her mouth to announce her presence, but the scene before her made the words die on her tongue.

Black Hat was holding hands with Flug. All trace of harshness gone from his face, one could almost mistake him for being asleep. Demencia watched on as he slowly opened his eyes, softly looking down at the scientists still form.

The early morning rays of light filtered through the curtains cascading down on the pair. A slight breezed blew through the window making the curtains billow slightly. It all created a breath-taking scene. Beside her, Demencia heard a click. 

She whipped her head around to identify the noise. Her eyes finally settled on 5.0.5. who was smiling cheerfully at her, dangling a camera from god knows where in his paws.

Demencia stared at 5.0.5., before adorning downright evil smirk once realizing the bears’ intentions. This would be the ultimate gold of blackmail material! She inwardly cackled to herself.

The smile quickly dropped off her face as she faced the scene again. She wouldn’t jump to conclusions so quickly, but the scene niggled something in her conscious, enough to make her concerned about the scene. 

In that moment, she felt envious of Flug for the first time ever.

But even she had to admit.

The scene was pretty damn cute.

She opened the door fully and stepped inside, 5.0.5. right behind her. The door slid shut behind him. She raised an eyebrow as her presence had yet to be acknowledged. Demencia crossed her arms and waited for her boss to realize that there were now two other occupants in the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Black Hat felt his energy gather up near Flug’s lungs, where most of the damage seemed to be. He stared at the blank front of the doctor’s paper bag, watching it sink up and down with each breath he took. It appeared that the doctor’s sorry creation did have it’s uses, Flug’s bag had been changed and he was no longer in his standard ‘working clothes’.

The stupid idiot had better wake up soon, it wasn’t good for business. He leaned further over the scientist frame. He was going to deduct his pay for months once the doctor woke up. Also drill him for answers of what put the doctor in such a deplorable state.

Black Hat jolted in his seat as he heard a loud cough break through the silence of the room. He immediately dropped Flug’s hand and whirred around. Demencia and 5.0.5. stood there both looking at him with amused expressions.

Black Hat scowled, how could he have not heard them enter? He clenched his fists in preparation to yell at them before a glint of silver made him stop all motions. He immediately zeroed in on the object hanging around 5.0.5.’s neck. 

Was that… a camera?

He slowly looked at Demencia, the smile stretching across her face telling him everything.

He stood up, sending his chair toppling to the floor. He stuck his hand out, sending them a murderous glare that would send the even the bravest of men cowering and calling for their mothers, and believe him, he had done it before! Alas the two, insufferable as always, had the nerve to outright grin at him!

“5.0.5.” Black Hat warned in a low tone, “Hand over the camera.”

5.0.5. gave Black Hat a long stare before reaching around his neck and taking off the camera. Black Hat smirked triumphantly, he still had the power in this situation. His smirk dropped off as he saw 5.0.5. passing the camera to Demencia.

Demencia’s grin became unhinged as the camera landed right into her waiting hands. She looked up at him and winked. Fucking winked! He growled, he had enough of this. “ _ **Give me the damn camera!**_ ”

She chortled and slowly backed away to the door. “Sorry Blacky, but the hand-holding is just way to good~”

He narrowed his eyes, the angle causing his monocle to glint in the light, creating a  
terrifying image.

She froze, raising up a hand slowly, as if to surrender, before blowing a kiss to him and running, leaving a trail of smoke in her wake. He stood there, baffled at her actions before the irritation started to leak in.

“ _ **DEMENCIA!!!**_ ” He gave chase, raising hell along the way.

5.0.5. watched as his boss charged out of the room. He sighed, loud shouts and crashing rattled the house, he didn’t understand why his boss didn’t teleport to the location where Demencia was. Probably distracted. The sheets rustled next to him, he froze, straining his ears for another sound. After a solid minute had passed, he straightened, brushing it off as his imagination.

The sheets rustled again, he immediately rushed to the side of the bed. The doctor was moving.

He watched as he saw the doctor’s eyes flicker to life behind his googles. Flug’s hands immediately came up to run his hands across the front of his bag before dropping to his sides. Flug, seemingly done with his physical assessment, finally turned his gaze to where 5.0.5. was standing.

“Fives…? Is that you?”

“Aroo!” The bears flower stuck up in delight as he leaned over to hug the, now awake, doctor.

“Where am I?”

5.0.5. let out a low grumble in response.

“A spare bedroom? Ugh…” The scientist pressed the heel of his palms into the sides of his paper bag, a pained look crossing his face, “What h-happened?”

5.0.5. opened his mouth to respond before he heard loud crashing coming from just at the end of the hallway. Flug turned to 5.0.5. and cocked his head to the side, giving the bear a questioning look. The bear shook his head. They both turned to look at the doorway. The shouts and the banging came progressively closer. Suddenly a neon green streak barged into the room, jumping over Flug’s bed, landing on its feet, hiding on the other side. “If you want it, you’re going to have to work for it~” Demencia hollered out behind her.

Flug watched stunned as Black Hat burst into the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Black Hat tore through the manor, hot on Demencia’s heels. A black streak of fury.

“ _ **DEMENCIA, DELETE the DAMN PHOTO!**_ ” He jumped over a bed tackling her and pinning her to the floor. He was about to rip the offending object out of her hands before a voice made him freeze.

“Jefecito…?”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in, reminding himself that he was not startled at all, that he was still in complete control of the situation. Yeah right. He got up, casually brushing dust off his suit. “Doctor. You’re awake I see.”

“Y-yeah…” Black Hat nodded for a moment before the room elapsed into an awkward silence. Flug sighed at the tension, pushing his mental capacities elsewhere, like trying to recount what happened before he ended up in the room. Flug squinted at the celling as recalled his memories; he got up, he remembered feeling ill, he rushed down to the lab, got the solution out, went to his desk and… oh… right that. Wait. The scientist rapidly sat up. “O-oh gOsh! I am sO sorry S-SIR!” He couldn’t believe he had..! “I d-didn’t g-gi-give you the solution!” Flug grabbed the sides of his goggles in distress. “Oh sh-shit, I’m s-so fuc-”

“Flug.” Black Hat stared down Flug. The doctor squeaked, backpedaling out of the bed, sprawling out in a heap on the floor. He quickly scrambled up, standing on shaky feet.

“I-I can get b-back to w-work i-i-if...” His voice got quieter as Black Hat started to approach, moving closer to him.

Black Hat stopped right in front of the quivering scientist, leaving barely an inch of space between them. “Get some sleep doctor, I expect to see your work tomorrow.” His face gave an unreadable look as he delivered his statement, he promptly turned around and headed swiftly to the door, picking up his cane along the way. The three inhabitants left in the room listened as the taps of the cane faded away with distance.

As soon as the taps faded out completely, Demencia jumped on top of Flug, sending them both crashing onto the bed. “Flug! I knew you were going to wake up today!” She said while hugging him. “You were asleep for like ever!”

“W-wait how l-long was I out?!”

“A really long time! Like five days!” Demencia pouted, sagging her wait on him. Suddenly her whole entire demeanor changed, she stilled as she bent over to lean in close to where his ear would be, “And, if you ever think about doing that again,” Demencia tightened her grip around him, almost to the point it was crushing the air out of his lungs. “I’ll give you a real reason not to wake up.”

Flug started sweating underneath his bag. “Ah-hahha-hah… good o-one Demencia.”

“Oh, I wasn’t kidding~”

“Uh.”

“AROO!” 5.0.5. shouted and glomped the two of them with a hug.

Flug let out a delighted sound, laughing as the bear snuggled up to his neck. “A-aw. I missed you too Fives.”

Flug felt warmth spread through him, something he hadn’t felt in a long time. He turned his head outwards, he blinked before smiling. 

There, on top of the nightstand, laid a single black glove.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Flug grabbed the vile from his desk and walked down to his boss’ office. There were no hiccups today. The doctor reached up to his neck, where he felt smooth, unmarked skin. A bright smile crossed his face under his bag. He couldn’t believe his boss had healed that for him! As a plus, he was actually running early for once!

He took several sharp turns down the hall, a right, a left, another left, and a right before he reached his boss’s door.

He knocked twice, running high on a happy mood. He just had a good feeling about today.

“Enter.”

Flug’s grin widened even further underneath his bag as he twisted the doorknob open. His gloved fingers nudged the door open, letting him slip in between a crevice. He let the door fall shut behind him. 

“Sir, I have the m-mixture ready!”

“Good. Set it here.” Black Hat tapped an empty spot on his desk.

Flug practically skipped up to the desk to put the vile down on the requested spot. He folded his hands back, before taking two steps back.

Flug snapped his fingers twice, cam-bot jumped up to life, making whirring noises as it started up. The robot lurched forward, balancing itself on two metallic legs. It faced Black Hat and Flug.

It was show time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Overall, the recording went smoothly. Flug had found a way to make the solution painless, but thankfully this time they were using a real lab rat to use the solution on.

By the time the recording process was done, it was in the early afternoon. Black Hat sent Flug away, so he could continue with his paperwork.

Flug left his boss to do his form-filling. He had the rest of the day off. Flug halted mid-step in the hallway.

Holy shit.

He had the rest of the day off! Flug vibrated with excitement before continuing down to his lab, speed walking for the rest of the way.

His mind raced, he had no idea how he was going to spend his day! He could play with 5.0.5., or maybe do something fun Demencia. 

Or maybe. Maybe.

He could indulge himself…

A grin twisted on his face, that sounded like a perfect idea. He pushed the door to his lab with a flourish of his arms, closing it behind him softly with a subtle ‘click’.

The scientist closed his eyes, basking in the complete silence of the lab. He let out a long sigh, letting his shoulders sag down with the weight of the exhale. Flug shifted, slowly making his way to his desk in the corner of the room.

Taking seat in the wheel chair he put his gloved hands down on the desk.

Flug turned his head to the left, no one there; he looked fully behind himself, not a person there either. He eyed the clock on the wall, he had about three hours before 5.0.5. would be coming for a nap.

Plenty of time to give him what he wanted to do.

He carefully extracted his hands from the yellow gloves, setting the gloves on the far corner of his desk. The doctor bit his bottom lip, slipping his hand underneath the desk into a groove, popping open the top drawer of his desk. From the drawer he took out a single black glove. He knew it was a good idea to keep it with him. After all, he was sure Black Hat had plenty. He set the glove towards the top center of his desk.

He reached into the desk again to pull out another object. His bare fingers met a smooth surface. He trailed his fingers down its long and slender figure. It fit right into the palm of his hand, like it always did. The scientist had to admit, it has been quite awhile since he had last done this. Excitement coiled in his stomach as he set his favorite tool on his desk. He pulled a white sheet out of the desk. Flug popped the drawer shut.

It was time to get down to business.

Flug picked up the pencil and put it on the blank paper. He started to sketch the contour lines of the glove, using light strokes as he passed over the grooves of the knuckles.

Flug sat there for two hours, sketching out the glove. Going over the outline and adding shading near the end. The last thing he did was lightly shade in the slight shadow that was cast by the glove. With a final flourish of his pencil, he set it down. He took a deep breath and sat back, looking at his drawing, smiling under his bag. The glove was an exact replica of the one that was sitting atop the desk.

It looked as if it was going to come off the page. Flug chuckled to himself as he dragged his fingers lightly across the page, keeping in mind not to smear the image. He hummed in satisfaction.

“fluuug~” oh.

“Fluuuug~” oh no.

“FLUUUUUUG~” oh _god_ no.

“FLUG~” The doctor closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his goggles. Pressing his lips into a thin white line, he sighed.

It was inevitable, it would’ve happened sometime, he tried to reason to himself.

That didn’t stop Flug from pressing his hands over the front of his bag and curling up on himself.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he tilted his head up to the ceiling to confirm his suspicions. Sure enough, there was Demencia, hanging upside down from one of the pipes that lined the ceiling.

He groaned exasperatedly as he felt the beginnings of anxiety creep up his back. He was hoping to avoid this. “Y-yes?”

“You didn’t tell me you were an artist!” She dropped down on the desk, her feet barely missing the edge of the drawing paper. “Much less, you have an actual skill for it!”

“W-well, ahm…” Flug’s eyes nervously darted around the room, searching for an escape route, no such luck.

Demencia leaned in close to his face, he shrank back. “Show me more!”

That was the one request Flug hoped, no prayed, wouldn’t be asked. He already knew Demencia wouldn’t leave until he gave in. He sighed dejectedly, “Sure, just, hold on a minute.”

He popped the desk open and reached in. He took out a stack of paper and threw it on the desk, like it was self-detrimental evidence in a case where he was the one guilty of the crime. Which in a sense, it was.

Demencia squealed and jumped off the desk. She snatched up the papers and started to examine them. Flug watched in interest as he analyzed the expressions passing across Demencia’s face. It flickered from surprised to delight to genuinely awed.

“Flug, do you have drawings of everyone here?” Demencia asked as she continued to riffle through the papers.

“Er, yeah.” The scientist said as he shifted his gaze to the wall, he often drew to regular residents of the Black Hat Organization, that wasn’t odd.

A little gasp came from Demencia. He looked back at Demencia, thinking she deemed something practically jaw dropping, only to freeze at the face she wore.

The expression that marred her face was one of shock, amusement, but most importantly, _horror_.

Ice flooded his veins as dread squeezed his heart. “Demencia?” Fug stood up from his seat, ramrod straight, “Is there a problem?”

She gave no sign of hearing him, just carrying on staring at the paper. He shuffled over to a position behind Demencia to see what she was so stunned about.

Panic gripped his heart as he slowly crept around her. The ice in his veins turned jagged as he looked at the drawing.

You see, most of his drawings were of innocent things, 5.0.5. frolicking in flowers,  
Demencia drinking her coffee, things of that nature.

But on some occasions, he liked to draw his experiments.

His organic, live experiments.

Well, most of them were live, at some point…

Flug immediately slapped the paper out of her hands and sent the stack flying across the room. He ran over to where most of the papers were congregated and bodily tossed himself over them. “Ah-haha-hahha!” Flug laughed nervously, trying to think of ways to diffuse the situation. He felt the room tilt as Demencia turned that expression on him, “Y-yeah, drawings…” Flug’s voice wavered slightly at the end of his sentence. He had thought for sure he had moved all those drawings out to a more secure location.

Flug scrambled around to sweep up all of the drawings into a pile. The scientist couldn’t believe he had exposed himself in that much in such a short period of time. He dragged himself off the floor, arms full of paper. “Uh, b-bye”

With that he absconded from the room. High-tailing out of there without a backwards glance. Not wanting to be under Demencia’s penetrating gaze any longer.

Unfortunately for him, that meant that he missed one of the drawings that escaped the tight grip of his arms.

The picture floated to the floor as Flug sped off out of room.

The drawing was in full color, a rarity for many of his artworks. It depicted a pale man strapped down to a lab table. The man in the picture had tube sticking out of his throat, oxygen being pumped into his lungs through a machine peeking out of the corner of the drawing.

His lips were sown shut, blood trickling from the torn, dangling flesh of his lips, beading where the black thread had been strung and pulled taught through each lip. An obvious sign the man had attempted to scream. A long incision was made, trailing from the top of his navel to the bottom of his sternum. The skin and muscles were peeled back, held in place by medical clips, exposing his entrails, the tip of his heart peeking out from underneath the exposed bone of the sternum. The ribs were snapped back, no longer attached to the spine giving their odd angle. A myriad of tubes where flowing into and out of the exposed organs, intricately weaving around and through and with the intestines. Chemicals bubbled and seeped in between crevices along vibrant, pink organs. Blood traced lazy patterns down the man’s side, slowly trickling from deep gashes causing crimson to pool behind his back.

There was an oxygen mask over the man’s nose, however, the black smog flowing through the mask was anything but. The brown hair atop his head was mussed and tarnished with dried, crusted blood. The man’s green eyes were dulled and pained. Bruises decorated the man like a colorful mosaic of blues, blacks, and purples. Angry red crisscross lines were painted across his body in deliberate whip-like lacerations.

The man appeared to be dead, like the picture was drawn postmortem. Surely, he couldn’t be alive after all of that.

However, when the image was created, the man was still very much alive.

Not that anyone would ever need to know that little fact of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Yes, I am a tease. (ಥ ͜ʖಥ) You’re welcome. Yes, Flug has the “Dark Side” to him. I had an interesting time writing this chapter. This chapter is a little longer than the last, I’m working on achieving 4K words per update. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed!


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